


Mama's Boys

by littlechinesedoll



Series: Bribing Werewolf Puppies With Food [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek likes Frank Sinatra, Domestic, Domesticity, Fluff, I am literally incapable of writing anything other than fluff, M/M, Pack Mom Stiles, Stiles is a 50s housewife, husband derek, pack Mama Stiles, so be ready for a disgusting amount of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles isn't a fifties housewife. He really isn't. (Though he so totally is.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mama's Boys

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if it even snows in California, so I’m going to assume that it doesn’t, and that it just goes really cold. I also have no idea how to do shit in cold weather since I live in a tropical country where it’s over 25C all the damn time, so I’ll just wing it. This is unbeta’d.

“DEREK!” screamed Stiles, running over to Isaac who was bleeding on the ground. “Oh God,” he said as he knelt down beside the beta, who was bleeding on his side. “Shush, shush, you’re okay,” Stiles gently moved Isaac’s head from the ground to his lap.

Derek retracted his claws and canines as his red eyes slowly went back to their usual green as he rushed to Stiles and Isaac’s side. “Fuck,” he said when Stiles lifted the torn shirt and revealed three deep gashes on Isaac’s side. “What the hell are you standing around for?!” he snarled at the rest of the pack. “Go get the first aid ready!”

“Wounds from Derek suck,” winced Isaac as Stiles and Derek helped him on his feet. “Am I still bleeding?” he asked, taking off his shirt so it wouldn’t touch the open wound.

“Yeah,” said Stiles, “Derek, please set him down in the living room. I’ll get a something to clean him up with,”

He took off his jacket and threw it onto a nearby chair before tending to Isaac. Stiles had no idea why Derek had the pack training in the middle of December when it was freezing. Not that the wolves ever felt cold. He just wanted Derek to cut them some slack a bit. It was nearing Christmas.

Erica draped some towels on the sofa before Derek set Isaac down so he wouldn’t bleed everywhere. Jackson and Danny were on one side of the room, and Scott arrived about a moment later with Stiles, ready with the first aid and a bowl of warm water and a small towel. Jackson lit up the fireplace to warm Stiles up.

“It’s okay, it’s not bleeding anymore,” said Stiles, sitting down beside Isaac, and started cleaning him up first with the towel that was wet with warm water. “Just don’t move much first,”

Gently and carefully, Stiles tended to Isaac’s wound, wiping up the blood with the towel and warm water, then disinfecting the cuts. Stiles frowned at Isaac’s discomfort. He was used to cleaning everyone up when they were all bloodied up like this, but that didn’t mean it was easy seeing them scrunch up in pain like that.

“OW!” Isaac flinched when the stinging disinfectant hit the wound. “Why can’t we have the kiddie ones that don’t hurt?” he frowned.

“Scott got these from Dr Deaton,” said Stiles, threw the cotton into a plastic bag Scott got for him so all the bloodied things could be in one place and not all over the trash can. “Let’s ask him about the non-stinging ones, okay?” he prepared the gauze then taped it up to finish. “There,”

“Thank you,” Isaac smiled weakly at him.

Stiles smiled back as he put the first aid kit away. “You’re welcome,” he helped Isaac up. “Go up and get a fresh shirt on. I’m going to clean the towels before the blood dries. Scott, please put the first aid kit back where you found it.”

“I’ll do it,” Erica took the kit from him, Isaac went upstairs and Danny put away the bowl of blood stained water.

“Okay?” said Stiles as he watched them move around the living room. He looked at Derek. Derek shrugged. “Am I missing something?” he asked.

“You’re the one who said you wanted them behaved,” Derek watched him gather the bloodied towels.

“Sometimes it gets suspicious, you know?” said Stiles, folding up the towels so they wouldn’t be difficult to carry to the wash room. “I mean I know they mean well—”

Stiles was shut up with Derek’s lips on his. “I know they’re just being good pups. I’m sorry about Isaac. I guess I’ve been too rough with training lately. I just don’t want us to be underprepared,”

The human gave the Alpha a gentle smile. “You’re just looking out for us, and mistakes are made for us to learn from them,” Stiles put his free hand on Derek’s cheek, feeling the stubble under his skin. “Besides, you’ve got your very own Disney Princess. Of course we’ll win,” he laughed.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Come on!” Stiles withdrew his hand from Derek and held the towels with both hands. “I’d totally be a kick ass Disney Princess! Though I’m not sure if I can save China just yet—”

“Stiles, just wash the towels, okay?”

“I _will_ be able to save China one day, though!”

“Stiles,”

“I know, I know, wash the towels,” Stiles pouted.

Derek’s eye twitched. He sighed and gave in. “Fine, you’d make a kick ass Disney Princess,”

“I know, right!” Stiles stole a quick kiss from his Alpha, and left the living room to do some laundry.

* * *

Stiles went upstairs to gather all of clothes from the hampers, and put it together with the towels in a laundry basket. It wasn’t much, just a few shirts, a pair of pants, and some socks. Since he was going to wash the towels, he might as well just do the laundry. Most of it were Derek’s anyway.

He decided to visit Isaac up in his room after emptying the hamper of Derek’s clothes in the nearest bathroom while holding the basket balanced on his hip. “Isaac?” he knocked on the door. “You okay? Does it still hurt?”

Isaac opened the door. He looked better with all the sweat wiped away and with a fresh shirt on. “Hey,” Isaac smiled. “I’m good. It still hurts, but I’m good. It’s gonna be healed completely in a couple more hours,”

“Oh, good,” Stiles smiled back and gave a light nod. “I’m going to do a bit of laundry for a bit. Won’t take long since it isn’t much. I’ll make some snacks for you guys after I’m done, okay?”

“Okay!” Isaac nodded excitedly, like he lives for nothing but Stiles’ cooking.

Stiles sighed. “Uh, Isaac? You know Derek didn’t mean to hurt you, right?”

“I know,” said Isaac. “I think it goes unsaid. He just wants us to be safe, right? Like you always say,”

“Yeah, Derek just wants us to be safe,” Stiles nodded. “Why don’t you go sit on the porch and watch the others train while I do this? Anything you want me to make?”

“Panini!” Isaac answered immediately.

Stiles chuckled. “Alright. Banana and Nutella Panini it is,” he moved to leave, but Isaac caught him and hugged him, causing him to let go of the basket, and it hit the wooden floor with a loud thud.

Isaac bent down a little, his arms under Stiles’, pulling his Alpha’s mate closer, and buried his nose his Stiles’ neck.

Stiles froze for a moment, then gave the hug back. He rubbed circles on the beta’s back. “Hey, it’s okay,” Stiles ran one of his hands through Isaac’s curls. “Poor puppy,” he whispered, feeling Isaac’s uneven breaths on his neck. “How about I make some caramel bars? For dessert later?” these long impromptu hugs from Isaac weren’t new. He was just caught way off guard this time. “Then I’ll make you your favourite pasta? And some very nice garlic bread and grilled chicken breasts? How’s that sound?”

“Angel hair Bolognese?” Isaac quietly said into Stiles’ neck.

“Mhmm…and you can help me, too.” Stiles smiled, and pressed a kiss to Isaac’s temple. “C’mon, you can bring the others some Gatorade and watch them train. Remember, Derek likes the blue one. Don’t give it to Scott,” he chuckled, then Isaac let go.

Stiles picked up the basket and watched Isaac bound down the stairs into the living room. He followed, and halfway down the stairs he heard clinks of bottles, probably the bottles in the shelves of the fridge door, bumping into each other as Isaac yanked the fridge open.

“No beer!” Stiles called as he reached the foot of the stairs.

“Gotcha!” Isaac gathered the Gatorade bottles, and brought them outside. “Stiles says Gatorade break!” he handed Derek the blue one before Scott could get it.

“I wanted the blue one,” Scott frowned, about to take the yellow one instead.

“Stiles said Derek liked the blue one, and there was only one blue Gatorade left so…” When everybody had gotten one (Danny and Erica got the pink ones, Jackson got the orange one, Boyd got the red one, and Isaac and Scott got yellow ones), Isaac sat down on the porch, waiting for them to finish their drinks.

“How’s your cut?” Derek asked after only a few gulps that rendered the 500ml bottle empty.

“Still open,” answered Isaac, looking up at his alpha.

Derek nodded and set the bottle down on the porch. “Scott.”

“Yeah?” the beta wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

“You’re the fastest. Run. I’m giving you a five minute head start,” said Derek, watching them all set their bottles down on the porch beside Isaac. “First one to catch him gets to go the supermarket with Stiles after he’s done with laundry. We’re done as soon as you catch him,” 

“YES!” Erica and Jackson chorused, also doing a high five.

Danny shook his eyes in amusement, Boyd had no reaction as always, and Scott looked like a kicked puppy. “Why am I always the bait?” he frowned. Derek glared at him. “Okay, fine, I’ll run!” Scott stepped back with his hands up to his chest in defence.

“I get to go too, right?” Isaac asked before Derek sent Scott off.

Scott took off, and Derek shook his head lightly. Isaac frowned. “You need to keep still and let your wound heal.” His ‘I’m your Alpha listen to me’ slash ‘You live under my roof so you follow my rules’ tone made Isaac frown more. Also the part where ‘I’m your legal guardian’ screamed ‘Listen to me.’

“Stiles said I could help,” Isaac mumbled under his breath.

Derek sighed. Why the hell did his betas have to be forever mentally stuck at sixteen? He took it back, he clearly did not make a good choice with his betas.

* * *

Jackson won, tackling Scott to the ground, covering them with dirt and dried leaves about half an hour after Scott’s head start. Scott had run around in circles, also running up several trees and as far as he could go, and his fellow betas didn’t know which track to follow. Jackson was the one who found and followed the right track.

When they got back, Stiles had already dried the clothes and hung them in a spare room, and there was a mountain of banana Nutella Panini on the breakfast counter, juice boxes (because Isaac and Scott loved juice boxes) and a note. _Knock yourselves out ;)_ it said. And they did. Of course, only after Derek took one and had the first bite.

Everybody had food in their mouths when Stiles went down the stairs with the keys to the Jeep jingling in his hands. “Hey,” he said by the threshold of the kitchen, already dressed. He was in his favourite coat. It was a candy apple red hooded wool coat. It was a present from Derek and he loved it. “I’ll head out to the supermarket a bit to get some stuff for dinner. I won’t be gone long,”

“Jackson will go with you,” said Derek, crushing the juice box and threw it in the trash bin.

“What? Why?” Stiles asked, watching Derek get a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Jackson,” said Derek, snapping the bottle open. “Go get washed and get dressed. You drive,”

Jackson finished the last of his Panini and his juice before rushing into his room to freshen and dress up.

“Okay?” Stiles watched Jackson disappear up the stairs and looked at the betas seated on the stools at the counter, then at Derek. “It’s just the supermarket, Derek,”

“And I told you, you need someone with you all the time,” said Derek, walking up to him. “Just as a precaution,” he put his hand on the small of Stiles’ back and led him back up the stairs, to their room. “You’re not going out like that. It’s freezing,”

Yes, they were on their Christmas Holiday break from school. A Christmas break with still a lot of homework to do. Stiles had some stuff to work on food allergies (he was taking HRM slash culinary arts type of degree from the local college). He didn’t know what the others had to do over the break, but he was sure they were loaded too.

“Yeah, says the one who wears nothing but pants and a Henley outside,” Stiles frowned. “Why don’t you guys have some rest? Maybe clear your heads and your noses?”

He and Derek entered the master bedroom. Derek closed the door, and move over to his drawers to take something from under the pile of underwear. “Thought you might like and need a pair,” he handed it to Stiles.

They were gloves. Badass looking gloves. They were black, and for cold weather. Stiles’ smile went from ear to ear and he hugged Derek by his torso and kissed his cheek. “You’re going to spoil me rotten with these gifts!” he said as he pulled away. He put on the gloves. It went perfectly with the coat. It made him look all fancy.

“I have every right to spoil you,” said Derek, pressing his lips to Stiles’ temple. “I love you,”

“You should!” chuckled Stiles. “I do your laundry, so you better love me,”

Derek shook his head with a small smile. 

“Well, I better go,” said Stiles, “Gotta be home in time to make dinner! Love you!” Stiles gave Derek a quick kiss on the lips before going back down the stairs, where Jackson was waiting at the foot, also in one of his fancier coats and gloves. 

Stiles threw Jackson the keys to the Jeep. Jackson caught it, and moved to leave the house with Stiles. Before they could get in the Jeep, Derek went out after them. “Jackson!” he said, going down the porch steps.

“Yeah?” the beta looked up, ready to get in Stiles’ car.

“Take the Explorer,” Derek threw him the keys to the SUV, and went back inside the house.

Stiles frowned. “Don’t belittle my Jeep!” he yelled after Derek.

Jackson chuckled and gave Stiles back his keys. “I think he just wants us to take new car for a spin, or that the Ford’s got better heating, or he just doesn’t want us to break down halfway there--”

“Okay! Fine! I got it thank you very much, Jackson,” he cut Jackson off and pocketed his keys. “Now drive before the Big Bad Alpha says anything more about my car,”

Stiles got into the front seat, and Jackson drove out the Hale property.

* * *

“Hello, Stiles,” said an old woman—probably in her mid-sixties—as Stiles hopped out of the SUV in the parking lot.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Campbell,” Stiles smiled. Mrs Campbell lived with her husband a few houses away from him and his dad, and he remembered being babysat by her a few times. She was really nice, and she liked how she read him bedtime stories.

“You’re looking fancy today,” she said, coming up to him to give him a quick kiss on his cheek. “My, that’s a nice coat and what a huge car. Is that yours? I don’t think I’ve ever seen out without your adorable Jeep,”

Jackson came up behind him, pocketing the car’s keys. “Thank you. And no, this isn’t mine. I wish it were. This is Mr Hale’s car. Jackson and I are doing some errands for him,” smiled Stiles. Wow, calling Derek ‘Mr Hale’ sounded like he was some big shot businessman and Stiles was the lowly coffee maker-copy boy. “By the way, Jackson, this is Mrs Campbell. She lives a few houses away from me. Mrs Campbell, this is Jackson Whittemore. He’s one of my high school classmates,”

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” Jackson offered his hand and shook the old lady’s hand gently but firmly.

“What handsome young men,” she said, smiling at them. “Well, you two best be off, and I must too. Can’t let Mr Campbell wait too long. Take care of yourself, Stiles,”

Stiles opened the door to the backseat of her car to deposit the only bag she had from the supermarket, and opened the driver’s seat door for her so she could get it. Mrs Campbell thanked him. “No problem, Mrs Campbell. Drive safe!” he waved as she drove off.

“Mr Hale, huh?” Jackson teased as they walked towards the establishment.

“Shut up. I don’t wanna hear it,” said Stiles, sounding playfully dismissive. “I can’t just tell an old woman that it’s my boyfriend’s car can I? She still probably sees me as that eight year old she used to look after when my mom died,”

“Still,” said Jackson. “Mr Hale. Has a nice ring to it. ‘Jackson and I are doing errands for him.’ Wow, doesn’t it sound like a 50s housew—”

“Don’t you dare say it!” Stiles cut him off, taking longer strides to be able to get to the building. “There will be no caramel bars tonight if you say it!” Yeah, Stiles wasn’t going to deny the domesticity of it all but, hell no, he was not a 50s housewife (uh, yeah he was).

“—wife?”

Stiles stopped a few feet from the store’s automated door and narrowed his eyes at Jackson. More like squinted. “No dessert for you,” he poked Jackson’s chest with his forefinger. “Absolutely no dessert,”

Jackson gave a defeated sigh. “Fine,” and followed Stiles inside.

Stiles went straight for the aisles, and starting taking the things he needed. Jackson quickly took a cart and ran after him before Stiles dropped everything he was holding. Jackson sort of knew why everybody liked accompanying Stiles in his grocery shopping. Most of the time Stiles was quiet, which was really a fucking miracle. He studied the way Stiles take and put back items from the shelves, debating with himself whether to take it or not, or if they needed it, or which of the two brands he’d get more out of according to volume or weight and the price.

No one ever tried shopping without Stiles. Derek tried once, when Stiles had been too busy with some end of the term final projects and nobody had the time to go out except him. He got all the wrong brands and the stuff that not everybody liked so they had to suffer a week for Derek’s…lack of household knowledge. Like how he took the regular cornflakes instead of the frosted ones. Everybody had to eat regular cornflakes. Isaac hated regular cornflakes. Because Derek was boring and didn’t like Froot Loops.

The cart was half full and they were at the meat section when Jackson spoke. “Hey, Stiles?”

“Yeah?” answered Stiles, about to take the bag of ground beef from the butcher behind the counter.

“Here, lemme get that,” Jackson took the bag from the butcher, and put it in the cart.

Stiles looked at him suspiciously. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Well, not really,” Jackson pushed the cart towards the butcher who was about to hand Stiles the bag of chopped chicken parts. He took it as well and put it in the cart.

“Did you break something?” Stiles was still eyeing him. “The law? The car?! I can save your ass with my dad but not with Derek!”

“What? No!” Jackson frowned. He sighed. “It’s Lydia, okay?”

Stiles’ expression softened. “I’d give you a hug right now, but I don’t think you like hugs all that much, and because it’d look _so_ weird,” he made a motion with his hand to tell Jackson to follow him to the veggies section. Stiles, looked over the vegetables, deciding which ones to get as he picked out some nice looking white onions. “Heard it was the last one,”

“Yeah,” Jackson nodded, leaning on the cart’s handle.

Stiles had the onions weighed and put the bag in the cart. He waited for Jackson to speak. He didn’t want to get ahead and assume that it was Lydia he wanted to talk about. So while Jackson stood there guarding their cart, he picked out the usual stuff he bought for the Hale House pantry.

“How did you do it?” Jackson said finally. Stiles had already taken everything he needed from the crates.

“I beg your pardon?” said Stiles, dropping a few bottles of seasoning from one of the shelves.

Jackson wasn’t looking at him. He couldn’t. “Get over Lydia, how did you do it?” because he couldn’t believe that he was asking Stiles of all people. Stiles, who had only had one lover in his entire existence and was probably never going to get another one.

“Jackson,” Stiles started softly, trying to ignore that need for him to wrap his arms around his former captain and comfort his mate’s beta. “It takes time. I know it’s already been a month, but it takes longer than that,”

The blonde nodded.

“It takes time and people,” continued Stiles. “If you keep to yourself like you always do, you’ll never be able to get used to other people being around you. Derek constantly slipping into my room in the middle of the night trying to get me to research things and read tons of history got my mind off her. Helping rebuild the house was a distraction, so was thinking of the pack’s health because seriously, I refuse to let you guys have take-out every day.” 

Stiles paused. It must be hard for Jackson to come to him for this.

“Danny misses you. You should go spend time with him. Spending time with Derek and Scott helped me,” Jackson raised a brow at him. “Fine, Scott was busy eating Allison’s face. Mostly it was Derek and you guys. Taking care of you guys helped. Most of the time I’m worried about what I’ll feed you and my dad. Worried about the house falling on us whenever we’re there, whatever the weather may be. S’one of the reasons why I kept annoying Derek to rebuild it. Worried that some rogue hunter might just come out and shoot you in open daylight and I don’t have wolf’s bane and lighter in my pocket,”

Jackson looked incredulously at him. “You carry wolf’s bane with you all the time?”

“Uh, yeah.” Said Stiles, there was an obvious ‘duh’ in his tone.

“I don’t smell anything. Why can’t I smell it? Or feel it?”

“It’s dried, and I keep it with other herbs to hide the scent and effects,” he answered. “I asked Dr Deaton. He taught me and gave me some reading assignments,”

“And Derek knows you carry wolf’s bane around?” 

Stiles nodded. “I told him I need the sense and feel of security. That I can do something if…if one of you got shot. If he got shot. Because I don’t want to go through one of you getting shot again. I don’t want any of you to go through what Derek went through,” He swallowed, trying not to crack as he remembered the day Kate shot Derek. “I don’t want any of you feeling helpless and scared out of your mind like I did when I literally watched Derek slowly die on the passenger seat of my Jeep. I don’t want to cut anybody’s arm or leg off when we’re not anywhere near even a single wolf’s bane flower. And even if I don’t have the right species, at least it’ll slow down the poison,”

Jackson slowly nodded, getting at where Stiles wanted him to be. After a few moments, when he got his answer and more, he spoke. “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” Stiles smiled and then lowered his voice. “And just between you and me,” he leaned over closer to Jackson to whisper, “You are so totally Danny’s type,” he chuckled, leaned back again.

“Pfft. I’ve known that one for years,” said Jackson arrogantly.

“Great! You know what to do, then! Now, let’s go get you puppies a pool’s worth of juice boxes and milk!”

* * *

“I feel like I’m feeding the Brady Bunch twice over,” said Stiles as Jackson helped up put gallons of milk and chocolate milk into another cart. Derek even had to buy one of those industrial sized freezers to fit all of the milk and juice in. They had to put it in the basement, together with the other industrial sized freezer containing the deer meat. The wolves went out hunting every few full moons.

Scott and Isaac always fought over the chocolate milk, and he made sweet, warm milk on request on some nights (hell, even Derek asked for a mug once or twice), so it was better to stock up on the milk enough for a week than get a gallon and come back to the supermarket the next day.

“I heard you and Derek talking last night,” said Jackson, attempting to break the silence as he helped Stiles with the gallons.

“Overheard or were you eavesdropping?” asked Stiles without any hint of malice. He and Derek hadn’t done anything to embarrass their betas’ ears.

“I was in my room,” Jackson lowered his head, then took the cart with the milk and juices since it was heavier than the other one.

Stiles nodded. There was nothing wrong with that, besides, everybody in the house except him had superior hearing. He’d rather not Jackson listen in to his and Derek’s conversations, not that what he and Derek discussed was going to be kept from them anyways. “And what did you hear?” Stiles pushed the cart into another aisle.

“Just that Derek bought the chain of garages he works at in town?” Jackson followed him.

“Oh, yeah. What about it?”

“Why?” Jackson asked.

“Work is just some kind of past time for him. For him to do something while the rest of us are at school,” Stiles searched the shelves of things he thought the Hale House might need. “And contrary to popular opinion, Derek actually finished school. He has a degree in management,” he grabbed a pack of crackers he thought might be nice with coffee.

Jackson’s eyes widened. “He does?”

“Yep!” said Stiles, “You’re going to have to ask nicely if you want to see his graduation picture and his diploma,” he grinned at the beta.

“He has a graduation picture?!”

Stiles was seriously loving the look on Jackson’s face. “Yeah,” he was still smiling. “I won’t tell you where it is, though,” it was right next to his own high school graduation picture, hanging on the wall of his father’s office at the station. They were only copies, though. The real ones were at the Hale house, in Derek’s study. No one was allowed in Derek’s room and study except for Stiles. It was one of the perks of being the Alpha’s mate.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” frowned Jackson.

“It’s completely Derek’s choice if he wants you to see his graduation picture or not,” said Stiles. “Now, move your furry butt, Jackie, let’s pay for this,” he pushed the cart towards the end of the aisle to the cashiers.

Jackson groaned. “ _Don’t_ call me that,”

“I’ll call you whatever I want,” Stiles grinned at him. “Besides, I think it’s a cute nickname. I won’t call you Jackie in front of the others. That’s just for me.”

“Ugh, fine,” he followed Stiles to the cashier.

* * *

“Stiles!”

Stiles turned around and saw one of his father’s officers walking towards him. “Good afternoon, officer,” Stiles smiled at the officer.

“Heading home?” she asked, eyeing the car. She let out a whistle. “That looks new. Yours?”

“Oh, no,” Stiles shook his head. “It’s Derek’s. We took it for a spin,” 

She grinned at him. “Mr Hale’s a lucky man, isn’t he? Pretty little thing like you doing his groceries,” she winked.

“Oh God.” Stiles hid behind Jackson, trying to keep his reddening face from his father’s officer. She had always been a big fan of Derek ever since he came back.

Jackson smirked at Stiles. “Well, Officer. It was nice running into you. I have to get this ‘pretty little thing’ back to Mr Hale now,”

“I hate you,” Stiles murmured into Jackson’s back.

The officer chuckled. “You make sure that Mr Hale takes care of Stiles, you hear me, Mr Whittemore?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Jackson nodded and watched the officer make her way back to her cruiser.

“I hate you, Jackie,” Stiles frowned, going back to putting the bags in the car. “You’re still not going to get any dessert tonight,”

* * *

It was still mostly Jackson who helped him put away the groceries when they arrived since everybody else was having too much fun having their nap in their own rooms (according to Jackson). Stiles didn’t waste time though, because as soon as Jackson put the last of the canned goods in the pantry, he sent him away to have a nap himself so he could start dinner in peace.

Isaac wasn’t anywhere around, and he’d probably be sad that Stiles started cooking without him, but if Stiles didn’t start cooking already, dinner wouldn’t be on the table on time. And he promised his dad he’d be sleeping at home tonight.

He pulled on his mother’s apron and got started. He did everything according to the little, black leather bound book Derek gave him. And if the recipe wasn’t there, he’d do it the way his mother did it. He did it exactly the way his and Derek’s mother did it.

Stiles pulled out his phone and decided to play some bossanova in the background as he moved around in the kitchen. It wasn’t too loud since he was alone and he could hear it just fine even if it was set only on the third of ten levels. He also sang along quietly, since the songs were only bossa variations of his favourite oldies.

The smell of sautéing ground beef filled the kitchen, and Stiles hoped to God that the fan sucked in all of that since he didn’t want to wake up the pack. They deserved that nap especially after all that running. While the beef was cooking he put out a large pot and started to heat the water for the pasta.

“Don’t leave your coat around like that,” Derek took Stiles coat from one of the stools, and hung it in the closet.

“Sorry,” said Stiles, going back to seasoning the beef that had already turned a nice brown in the large saucepot. “I was too busy thinking I wouldn’t finish dinner in time,”

“You always finish dinner on time,” Derek snaked his arms around Stiles’ waist and hugged him from behind. He pressed his lips onto Stiles’ neck and breathed in his scent. “How was the trip?”

“Educational, insightful, but most of all, humiliating,” Stiles stirred the meat some more and lowered the heat.

“And why is that?” Derek asked, following Stiles’ movements as he started cooking the pasta.

Stiles put some salt in the boiling water after he put the pasta in. “Well, a) Jackson rubbed it in my face that I’m a housewife when I referred to you as ‘Mr Hale’ to an old lady to who used to babysit me when I was young, and who by the way, still sees me as that eight year old whose mother just died. I can’t actually tell her I’m practically married to my boyfriend at twenty, right?”

“Mmm,” Derek said against his neck in response.

“And b) one of Dad’s officers came up to us and said ‘Mr Hale is a lucky man with a _pretty little thing_ like you doing his groceries.’” Stiles almost spat out the words.

“You _are_ a pretty little thing and I _am_ a lucky man to have you doing my groceries,” Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles’ temple.

“You’re not getting any dessert either,”

“Dessert that was bought with my credit card.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” 

* * *

After the pasta had been drained, the sauce done, the bread buttered, seasoned with garlic and warming in the toaster, and the caramel bars popped in the oven, Stiles left Derek to grill the cuts of seasoned chicken breast in the back. Isaac was the only one still sleeping, and the others were watching some cartoons (Scott insisted on Batman Beyond and boy, was Stiles proud) from his hard drive on the huge ass flat screen in the living room (which was why he downloaded everything in Blu-ray, even the cartoons).

Stiles quietly entered Isaac’s room, and slowly sat down on the edge of the bed so he wouldn’t nudge awake. Isaac was hugging one of his pillows, and another one was in between his legs. He ran a hand through Isaac’s curls, making Isaac shift slightly and open his eyes.

“Stiles?”

“Hey,” Stiles smiled at him. “Dinner’s ready. I didn’t want to wake you up and let you help like I promised. I can give you extra caramel bars though,”

Isaac smiled. “Can I get whipped cream with it?”

“Just don’t give Jackson any,” Stiles winked at him. Isaac chuckled. “How’s your wound? Does it still hurt?” he withdrew his hand from Isaac’s hair. “Let me see. After dinner, you will have a warm shower and we’ll change them, okay?”

Isaac pushed his pillows aside and lifted his shirt. There were still spots of blood on the bandages, but nothing that should alarm them. “It still hurts. I don’t know what stage of human healing I can compare it to, but I guess it’s about a third or a fourth of the way there?”

Stiles didn’t try to touch it and just pulled Isaac’s shirt down. “Go freshen up. Dinner will be ready as soon as Derek’s done grilling. I’ll see you downstairs,” he gave Isaac another smile before leaving him to get cleaned up.

Isaac nodded and made his way to the bathroom down the hall. He felt loved when Stiles took care of him. Not that he didn’t feel loved with his father; he wasn’t always like that. His wolf purred when Stiles paid attention and tended to him. Like it—he—both of them, like both of them wanted to curl up next to him to sleep. He attributed it to the Stiles being his Alpha’s mate. 

Tonight, like every other day and night Stiles gave him attention, he was going to soak it all up like a toddler being fed his dinner bottle. So as soon as he was done cleaning up in the bathroom, he bounded down the stairs and joined everybody else in the dining room. Stiles wasn’t there yet; he was in the kitchen putting some dressing on the quick Caesar salad, then took the caramel bars out of the oven to cool. Derek was at the table setting down the bowl of pasta and sauce, and a plate of garlic bread.

Isaac sat down at the table beside the blank seat at the right of Derek’s seat, and Stiles entered the dining room holding a large bowl of greens and the plate of the grilled chicken. “Derek, could you please get the pepper? For the salad?”

“I’ll get it,” Jackson stood up and went to the kitchen. He was the only one who wanted pepper in his salad, so there was no way he was going to let Stiles make his Alpha get stuff for him.

When Jackson came back, everybody was seated around the ten seat long table. Derek was at the capital and Stiles at his right. Scott was at Derek’s left and Jackson sat down beside him. Isaac was beside Stiles and beside him was Boyd, who was sitting across Danny. Beside Boyd was Erica.

The betas waited for the Alpha pair to serve themselves first. They didn’t actually have to do it, and it was really more of tradition, but the wolf inside them didn’t want to show disrespect. The seating arrangement didn’t mean anything either, except maybe for Stiles’ place at Derek’s right.

The betas still hadn’t gotten used to Derek eating vegetables, and that he was a big fan of salads, even after years of living together and under his command. They had always thought that he was more of a carnivore who liked well done steaks (he actually liked them medium rare).

After Derek and Stiles put their share of salad on their plates and set the salad bowl down, was the time everybody else reached for the pasta, bread and the chicken. Scott attacked the chicken and put a mountain on his plate. Stiles just chuckled.

“I’ll sleep at Dad’s tonight,” Stiles said as he stabbed a leaf with his fork. “I’ll also bring over some food. He might try to sneak in some kind of hellish burger. No way am I gonna let that happen,”

Dinner was noisy, quite the opposite of how it started. It was mostly about the training, and who beat who, and Jackson winning on the ‘Chase Scott’ game. Stiles laughed, especially when Jackson was rubbing it in Scott’s face that he’d yet again caught him. There was no wolfing out, since Stiles had already implemented the rule that there was no wolfing out at the table. Derek sat on the capital, enjoying the noise at the table, just smiling to himself as his pack bonded over the events of the day. 

Stiles was thankful that Jackson decided to shut his mouth about Mrs Campbell and his father’s officer. Because had no idea what he’d do to the beta if he opened his mouth. It was a good thing Derek was too busy scenting him and trying to get him hard in the kitchen to listen to him rant about other people calling him his ‘wife.’

Isaac was stuffing his face with the promised whipped cream topped caramel bars when Stiles stood up and gathered his and Derek’s plates. “When you’re done, bring your plates to the sink. I’ll just pack some food for my dad,”

Derek finished his glass of water, and retreated to the living room to turn on some slow music. Because when everybody thought Derek was into classic rock and similar genres, he was actually more into oldies. And tonight he chose Frank Sinatra.

_Someday, when I'm awfully low_

As soon as the music started, the betas scrambled out of the dining room into the kitchen to leave their dishes there (with their dessert jammed into their mouths), and rushed up to the media room upstairs. Derek smirked, and joined Stiles in the kitchen.

_When the world is cold_

Stile looked at Derek in confusion. “What just happened?” he asked, the silent hum of the dishwasher filling the room. “They came in here and even turned on the dishwasher themselves,”

_I will feel a glow just thinking of you_

Derek stood at the threshold, and raised the stereo volume with the remote in his hand. He set the remote down on a near table when the volume was high enough for Stiles to hear without the music being too loud. 

_And the way you look tonight_

“Oh,”

_Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm_

Derek approached him, giving a small smile to Stiles in return for his own fond smile and took Stiles’ left hand with his right, and put his own left hand on Stiles’ back under his arm. “It’s not every day they’re taking initiative like that.” He pulled Stiles closer.

_And your cheeks so soft_

Stiles laughed softly, putting his right hand on Derek’s left shoulder, and followed the sway of Derek’s body as he slowly moved to the music.

_There is nothing for me but to love you_

“What’s got you in the romantic mood tonight?” Stiles leaned in closer until their noses touched.

_And the way you look tonight_

“Just that we’ve all been too busy with school and work that we barely have any time for each other,” answered Derek, burying his nose in Stiles’ hair.

_With each word your tenderness grows_

“Hey, I’ll always make time for you. May it be a supernatural disaster, you needing me to do your ironing,” Stiles ran a finger down from Derek’s shoulder down to his chest. “Or maybe some…fun,” 

_Tearing my fears apart_

Derek knew Stiles would always be there, he didn’t worry about that. The thing that he worried about a hundred percent of the time was Stiles getting hurt. Even though he and the pack had always gotten Stiles out of trouble unscathed, he didn’t want the time that Stiles would come out of trouble with several broken bones.

_And that laugh…wrinkles your nose_

Stiles drew circles on Derek’s chest. “We could have some fun right now,” Derek pulled in him in closer and planted kisses on Stiles’ neck and shoulder. “But you mentioned something about not despoiling your kitchen,”

Stiles laughed a hearty, fond laugh.

_Touches my foolish heart_

Stiles brought his hand up to Derek’s cheek. “God, I love you,” he pressed his forehead to Derek’s.

_Lovely ... Never, never change_

“I love you more,” Derek whispered back, and leaned in for a kiss.

_Keep that breathless charm_

The kiss was deep and short, and Stiles kept their foreheads together when they pulled away. “Next time you want to woo me, you better find a more romantic space than your kitchen, Derek. So that I’ll actually swoon. Not that I’m not swooning right now,”

_Won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I love you_

“Do I even still need to woo you to make you swoon?”

_Just the way you look tonight_

“Arrogant ass,” Stiles snorted, and placed his head on Derek’s shoulder. They finished the rest of the song just moving, swaying slowly to the music. “But I like your ass. It’s too sexy not to like it,”

Then Stiles realized that he _was_ the wife (not that it was a big problem) because Derek just pulled a husband move on him. It was on old movies all the time. The mom cleaning up after dinner, and the kids upstairs playing, and dad comes in the kitchen and pulling mom to a slow dance to a romantic song from the radio. AND DEREK EVEN PICKED **FRANK SINATRA**.

“I think I’m going to get diabetes,” Stiles groaned, but he didn’t move from his spot on Derek’s shoulder.

“The good kind or the bad kind?”

“The kind that’s going to lead to sex!” Stiles sounded a little frustrated. “And we can’t have any because I have to go to Dad’s,” he pulled away from Derek, crossed his arms and pouted at him.

“We can make up for it some other time,” Derek smiled, and the song ended, replaced by, _I’ve got you under my skin._

Stiles frowned at him.

_I’ve got you deep in the heart of me_

“You’re trying to seduce me with that wretched Frank Sinatra CD!” Stiles pouted even more. 

“Do you think I need the CD to seduce you?” Derek crossed his arms and smirked at him.

The Henley sleeves stretched out from the movement. “Ugh. I hate you. You’re using yourself against me,”

“No you don’t,” Derek watched him take a few Tupperware from the cupboard and started putting food in it. And like always, Derek stuck himself to Stiles’ back with his arms wrapped around his waist as he worked around the kitchen.

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I could so that I can actually stay angry for more than a minute,” Stiles popped the Tupperware closed. “I’ll just go change Isaac’s bandages,” he set the Tupperware aside and went to the bathroom down the hall to get the bandages.

Isaac had already finished his bath when Stiles knocked and came in his room. “Ready?” Stiles asked, letting Isaac pull on some boxers first before making him lie down on the bed.

Isaac nodded. “You’re not going to stay?” he asked as Stiles applied some disinfectant on the half healed wound again. He winced.

“Sorry,” Stiles said guiltily, then proceeding to be gentler with the application. “No, I’m not. I told my dad I’d just help you guys settle down here then I’ll go back home. We’ll spend Christmas here, though. With Mrs McCall and Allison,”

“And Lydia?”

“And Lydia,” Stiles nodded. “She and Jackson are grown-ups now so they’re going to behave like grown-ups and suck it up like grown-ups,” Isaac laughed. His laugh seemed to be contagious because Stiles started laughing with him. “Stop that or I might just accidentally poke at your intestines or something,”

Isaac calmed down, smiling up at Stiles. “Sorry,”

“Mmm,” Stiles replied fondly, putting some antibiotic ointment to the wound so that the bandages wouldn’t stick to it. “Has Derek said sorry? About the wound?” he asked, twisting the cap back on the ointment tube.

Isaac nodded.

“And how did that go?” Stiles proceeded to start bandaging the wound.

“We had a really nice nap,”

Stiles paused and looked at Isaac who was grinning at him. He could imagine Isaac pressed up against Derek’s side like the huge puppy that he was, needing to feel safe and secure under the protection of his Alpha. “Well that was awfully sweet of him. I’ll keep quiet so I won’t offend His Alphaness,” he chuckled as he finished up. “There,” he set the first aid kit aside and fetched a shirt for Isaac.

Isaac pulled it on, and when Stiles came back to retrieve the first aid kit from the bed, he threw himself onto Stiles into a crushing hug. Stiles, as always, gave him and hugged back. “Maybe Derek will let you sleep in his bed tonight?” he said, rubbing circles on Isaac’s back.

It relieved Stiles that Isaac didn’t ask anymore when he wanted to be held. Stiles had more than the healthy amount of hugs from his dad, and Isaac, well, even if he said Mr Lahey wasn’t always like that, Stiles still thought that the child in Isaac just need some TLC. And Stiles was never gonna run out of TLC. 

“You think so?” Isaac said into his shoulder.

“He took a nap with you didn’t he? Of course he will,” he pressed a kiss on the top of Isaac’s head. Isaac seemed to like that a lot. The first time he did it a few years ago, Isaac didn’t let go of him for hours.

“I love you, Stiles,” Isaac whispered, burying himself in Stiles’ StilesandDerek scent. It calmed him down.

“I love you, too, Isaac,” Stiles whispered back, and they stayed like that for about another five minutes before Isaac let go and hid under his covers to try and rest early.

Stiles quietly slid out of Isaac’s room and went back to the kitchen to pack his father’s food.

“I’ll drive you there,” said Derek as he passed by the kitchen to get the keys from the key bowl in the living room.

“I’m capable of driving myself, Derek,” Stiles grabbed a paper bag from the drawer he stored them in and wrapped the Tupperware with it.

“No,” Derek reappeared at the kitchen threshold wearing his leather jacket and holding Stiles’ red coat and his gloves. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to let your Jeep rest? She’s at the shop every other week,”

“It’s not like I can afford a new car,” said Stiles, taking the coat and gloves from Derek. “Besides, as long as I can get her out in a few days, it’s fine,”

“I’ll get you another car,” Derek said with finality.

“You just bought the Ford!” Stiles said incredulously, halfway through buttoning his coat. “And the garage!”

“And the money will be made back when I start managing the garage,” Derek went over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “It’s just a car, Stiles,” he drained half the bottle and put it back.

“This is _thousands of dollars_ we’re talking about, Derek,” Stiles put on the gloves. “You don’t just give away cars! Boyfriend or not!”

They really shouldn’t be raising their voices like this. It stressed Isaac out the most when Derek and Stiles were arguing, and he had just gotten out of a cuddling session with Isaac.

“But you’re not _just_ a boyfriend, Stiles,” said Derek.

Stiles reddened. “I know that…” his voice lowered and he shifted his eyes to the floor for a moment before looking back at Derek. “It’s just that…you should be keeping that money, Der,” he said softly. “Setting it aside for a rainy day. For more important things--”

“Like your life?” Derek cut him off. “I’m trying to relieve you of your Jeep, Stiles. She’s done her job, and she needs to rest! She will one day probably be the reason you’ll spend months of physical therapy. Do you think I’d give a shit about spending a couple of thousand dollars if it means I know you’re driving home _safely_ every day? Because honestly, I’d rather be spending that money spoiling _you_ than spending it on your hospital bill,”

“Der,” Stiles gave a resigned sigh.

“Can you please let me do this?” Derek said softly. He approached him, taking Stiles’ hand to intertwine it with his. Stiles was looking at their hands. It was difficult for Derek. Working at the shop, thinking of nothing but the possibility of his phone ringing with an officer, or a paramedic or the hospital, or even the sheriff, telling him that Stiles had crashed because of something faulty and old in the parts of the Jeep.

Stiles didn’t answer, and stayed quiet for a few moments. “You’re supposed to be setting that side for your children’s college fund or something,” he leaned into Derek’s chest.

“Think of it as an investment,” said Derek, once again giving into the whims of his wolf, pressing Stiles closer to him. His mate was upset, and his wolf whined at that. “Something that will keep their other Dad safe so they can actually meet him. We can get you a newer Jeep if you want,”

“You mean it?” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s neck.

“You can have the Ford if you want,”

Stiles froze, then looked up at Derek. “You mean it?” he repeated.

“Yes, _if_ you promise you’ll let the Jeep rest,”

“She will. You can even use her as your garage mascot,”

“Stiles.”

“I promise!”

“You’ll never be able to get her back.”

Stiles frowned.

“Stiles.”

“Dereeeekkkk,” Stiles whined. “Jeep is my baby,”

“And now the Ford is your baby. The Jeep is now going in the garage to sign up for the retirement she deserves after she’s fixed up,”

The Jeep did deserve that. So Stiles gave in. He’d still visit her every day though. “Fine,” he wiped the frown from his face and pouted instead.

Derek held up the keys to the Ford. “Are we good?” 

Stiles’ grin was wide. Derek swore he was PMS-ing with how fast he shifted from one emotion to another. “Really good,”

As soon as Derek handed him the keys, a squeal came out of Stiles mouth and hugged him tightly. “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!” and then let him go, clutching the keys tightly in his hand. “Let’s go!” Stiles dragged Derek out of the kitchen and outside, obviously rushing to get home so he could brag to his dad about his new car.

Derek just smiled. So did everybody else in the house.

* * *

His dad wasn’t home though, so Stiles just parked the Ford in the driveway, set the food down on the kitchen table and kissed Derek good night. It was nearing nine in the evening, and his dad wouldn’t probably arrive until after midnight, so he made his way upstairs and got ready for bed.

For some reason, he didn’t want to wait up anymore and brag to his dad about the car. For some other reason he didn’t know, he was tired as fuck, so he didn’t bother opening up his laptop to check things that needed to be checked, or to jackoff and finger his hole furiously to the thought of having sex with Derek in the backseat of the Ford.

Besides, the bed was so inviting it was practically screaming his name.

He was on it seconds after stepping out of the bathroom, and fell asleep a few more seconds after that. Who knew grocery shopping could be so tiring? He was having a rather dreamless sleep, a very good dreamless sleep, until he woke up feeling like he was shoved into a furnace. He opened his eyes, and found himself under the covers, sandwiched between two werewolves.

Jackson and Isaac. 

Both were pressed against either side of him. Isaac was on his right and Jackson was on his left. He was sweating buckets, and he didn’t even remember pulling his blanket over him when he crashed on the bed.

He turned his head to get a glance of his digital clock on his desk. It showed him 12:06AM in red glowing characters. He heard his father’s cruiser pull on the driveway, and Jackson and Isaac didn’t even move an inch.

About a minute later, his dad slowly opened his door. It was just the usual check up on Stiles thing. “Hi, Dad.” Stiles whispered.

The sheriff raised a brow, eyeing Stiles’ friends. “Do I want to know?” he forgot about the Ford parked in the driveway next to the cruiser when he saw two boys lying next to his only son, holding him tightly as if they were never going to let him go.

“Miraculously, the reason for this isn’t as disturbing as it's supposed to be,” Stiles answered. Jackson and Isaac whined and pulled him closer to them.

“Is it a wolf thing?” his dad asked.

“That and some personal problems that I’m not sure I’m allowed to share but I’ll share anyway,” Stiles was starting to pant. “If it’s not too much of a bother, Dad, could you pull off the sheets? I’m literally burning here,”

The sheriff went over and pulled the sheets off him.

“Oh, thank God,” the cool air hit him, “Jackson broke up with Lydia and we had a little heart to heart. Isaac got hurt during training today, and the wound is from Derek. I’m not sure if it’s healed completely now. And the cuddling I think has something to do with the Alpha’s mate thing. They take these little emotional cuddle sessions very seriously,”

“Okay,” the sheriff nodded, thinking that it was best if he didn’t press it any further because he didn’t want to hear any more about his son, still a _kid_ (though legal), dating a _man_. A werewolf. An _alpha werewolf_. “And the Ford in the driveway?”

Stiles smiled. “Derek gave it to me,”

His dad stared at him. “Derek Hale?”

“Yes, Derek Hale, dad,”

“Derek Hale gave you a car?”

“Yes. Derek gave me a car dad,”

“And he gave you a car _why_?”

Stiles sighed. “He said the Jeep’s too old now, and that he doesn’t want it to be the reason I die. He wanted to get me a new car, but I didn’t want him to because I can still use the Jeep. I think he got a little angry about me being hard headed about it. I mean, a _car_ , Dad. I can’t afford one. I told him he can’t just give away a car. And he said that it was just money and that he’d get it back. And that it’s more important to him to know that I’m driving safe,”

The sheriff looked thoughtful. Even if he didn’t approve of the age difference, at least Derek was a good boyfriend. Too good, even. Except for when he and Stiles have an argument and it takes them longer than three hours to kiss and make up, he’d take his shotgun out. Give Derek maybe a bullet or two but he hasn’t had the opportunity yet.

“Well,” his dad said after a moment. “He’s right, the Jeep _is_ old. And where will the Jeep go?”

“Derek said he’d fix it and keep it in the garage,” Stiles yawned.

“Alright then,” Dad nodded, and thought it’d be best to let Stiles go back to sleep. “I’ll go to bed. I put the food in the fridge by the way. Good night, kid,”

“G’night dad,” Stiles slurred. “Love you,” he yawned one more time and closed his eyes.

“Love you, too,” the sheriff left and closed Stiles’ door. He stood there for a few moments, then laughed quietly to himself.

Maybe he liked Derek little bit more now.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally had no idea how to end this.
> 
> EDIT: SO I HEARD DEREK CAN SLOW DANCE. :D According to the TW Official Tumblr where Jeff revealed in another Q&A, Derek can dance! I love it, because I wrote the little dance scene in the kitchen before I found out about Derek knowing how to slow dance.


End file.
